


Bonding Experience

by marguerite_26



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marguerite_26/pseuds/marguerite_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/"><b>kinkme_merlin</b></a> prompt: Bradley and Colin jack off together (and each other) in order to bond when they first meet in order to build the chemistry between their characters. I don't mind if the author goes beyond masturbation, but I'd like masturbating together to be the first step they bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonding Experience

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [](http://dysonrules.livejournal.com/profile)[**dysonrules**](http://dysonrules.livejournal.com/) for the beta and [](http://cinnatart.livejournal.com/profile)[**cinnatart**](http://cinnatart.livejournal.com/) for checking my Colin-speak.
> 
> originally posted July 6, 2012

Colin's hotel room was nearly identical to Bradley's, though lacking a few misplaced socks and the odd dirty dish was missing from the bedside table. It smelled of air freshener and hotel laundry soap and a bit of Colin, which was weird that Bradley even knew that, considering.

Colin poured two whiskeys from the tiny bottles of his mini bar. He handed one to Bradley then sat down on the bed with a panicked hitch to his breath. Bradley downed his drink and stared a chip in the wood of the dresser. It was shaped like a sword. He tilted his head. Or a penis. He wondered if he should mention it to Colin, and hated that he was wavering on such a meaningless thing.

They knew the cast of Merlin was filled with the pretty and talented. They'd read the scripts of the first few episodes and knew the premise of the series was _golden_. But the on-screen dynamic between Merlin and Arthur was really what the show was about. It would carry the show, or bury it.

If they didn't _click_ , well, that was it, wasn't it? Shows with better writing and prettier people were cancelled without anyone batting an eyelash. And filming started the next day at dawn. Bradley and Colin had headed to the pub together, both a little desperate to make the tentative friendship they'd formed bloom into something that would make the difference.

It had been Bradley's suggestion to head back to the hotel for some bonding over a wank, more of joke really, thrown out in the midst of a dozen other ridiculous plots. But after they'd both snickered and downed a bit more of their pints, Colin hadn't dropped it.

“There are worse ways to break the ice,” he'd said, his accent softening all the vowels so it took a second longer to catch the meaning. When it sank in, Bradley waggled his eyebrows.

Colin snorted, on cue. Then to Bradley's surprise, he stood and tossed a few notes on the bar and headed for the door.

They laughed all the way to Colin’s room, talking about how this was never ending up in DVD extras, and both, Bradley was sure, half-waiting for the other to call the bluff.

Now that they were here, though, Bradley's laughter caught in his throat. He missed the noise of the pub that made their tomfoolery come easy. It was just them now and Colin was staring at his half-full glass, gnawing his lip, only the hum of the air conditioner filling the silence.

Bradley wanted to ask about tomorrow, if Colin dreamt about how Merlin would feel when he donned the role officially for the first time the same way that Bradley dreamt of Arthur. He wiped his palm on his denims and sat, needing to wipe that flicker of nerves from Colin's face. "That first scene where Merlin meets Arthur is brilliant though, yeah?"

Colin looked up, his eyes bright. "Yeah. That's a bit of brilliant." He grinned, wide and a little silly and Bradley's stomach flipped over at the sight.

Bradley cleared his throat, and turned to hide his blush. He crossed the room and grabbed the remote control off the dresser. "If we're going to do this, let's at least order some porn. Set the mood and all." He offered the remote to Colin, hands steady and heart thudding. If Colin wanted to call the joke done, this was the time.

Colin stared at the remote long enough that Bradley regretted ever having brought the subject up. They could have spent the night talking and being idiots and ignoring the looming tension of tomorrow's shoot.

Then Colin snatched the remote out of his hands. He flicked the television on and settled back against the headboard. "We're going to be bloody fantastic tomorrow, aren't we?"

Bradley laughed and scrambled over to the other side of the bed and sat beside Colin, arms brushing. "We'll be amazing."

The porn was bad. Really bad. And French, which actually was a blessing as the dialogue sounded much better than if they could understand it. But it was porn and it wasn't long before Colin shifted about on the bed, clearly uncomfortable in tight denims. Bradley smirked.

"Shut it, James. I can feel you smirking over there," Colin said, without turning to look.

Bradley didn't reply. He'd done this before, shared a wank with mates, and knew how to play the game. He focused on the screen and the heavily collagened lips with a thick cock sliding between them. He sank down on the bed, legs spread wide. As he knocked Colin's knee, their eyes met for an instant before Bradley looked away. He knew Colin was still watching him, that he hadn't turned back to the porn. His peripheral vision caught those huge blue eyes fixed on his groin.

This was what they were here for, he reminded himself. A bonding ritual, he'd told Colin. Something to add a spark when they made eye contact. Something for the camera to catch. Eyes glued to the screen, barely taking in the blur of slick skin, he reached down and popped the top button of his denims. He had to bite his lip to cover his snicker at the hitch of breath beside him. A grin tugged free as he lowered his zip.

Colin squirmed, his eyes now flickering to the screen then back to Bradley's lap like a child pretending to only see the roast while a treacle tart sat on the counter behind him, warm and tempting.

Colin's button and zip followed moments later while two girls sixty-nined on screen. When the blonde reached for a massive dildo, Bradley slipped his hand into his boxers and palmed his dick. He moaned together with the girl on screen as the tip of the plastic cock slipped in and stretched her wide.

With a grunt, Colin sprung up and knelt of the bed, his denims gaping open, his erection poking out of the waist band of his blue y-fronts. "Mr Bradley James." His accent was thick now, mangling the name in a way that made Bradley want to bite the sounds right from Colin's lips. "You’re going to be the death of me." Then he yanked his denims and briefs down his thighs and wrapped a hand around his stiff cock.

A sting of heat curled down Bradley's spine and twisted through his groin in a way that it never had at the sight of a man. He locked that thought away to think on later. He was on his knees, nose to nose with Colin in a blink. Colin's wrist brushed his cock on his next up stroke and Bradley squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck." He gripped his own cock, knowing he wasn't going to last but too far gone to be embarrassed about that.

The porn was just background noise now, filthy sounds filling the air between them. Colin panted hot, wet puffs on Bradley’s neck. They pumped out of rhythm, heads bent, watching each other toss one off. Group wanks didn’t go like this in Bradley’s experience. They’d always been full of stolen glances and teasing remarks about lack of control. Not like this, face to face, with Bradley fighting back the urge to mark Colin’s pretty neck with something that would take him an extra quarter hour in make-up. Their dicks disappeared and reappeared in their respective fists, close enough for random touches that made them gasp.

It was too much. "Fuck, Morgan. Fuck."

"Yeah," Colin breathed. His hand sped up, knocking Bradley's cock with each frantic stroke.

Bradley's orgasm ripped from him, a stirring in his balls that wrenched, whip-cord fast, tearing through him. He watched the come fall to the sheets, a drop hitting Colin’s wrist and making them both groan and move their hands faster. After a half dozen strokes, Colin leaned in, pressed the crown of his dick to Bradley’s shaft and coated it, thick and white, smearing the warm, sticky come up and down Bradley’s cock. They shuddered through their aftershocks, foreheads on each other’s shoulders and staring at the mess they’d made.

The moment they caught their breath, Colin fumbled for the tissue box and tossed it onto the bed. Bradley did what he could to clean up – which wasn’t much, his hands were trembling, but he’d shower back in his room.

Bradley hitched up his trousers and watched Colin rub at the wet spot on the sheets. It was the usual point where things get awkward, but Colin met his gaze without a hint of regret in his eyes. "Best get some sleep,” he said with smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges. “Tomorrow, we make a legend."

Bradley chuckled, high on adrenaline and relief that they were all right. As he made his way to the door, he turned. "Oh, and Colin?" He waited for Colin to look up from the tissues he'd been tossing in the bin. "You're going to be bloody brilliant."

Colin bowed his head, ears pink. "Cheers, mate. You, too."

Bradley nodded and felt more relaxed than he had in weeks. The camera was going to love them.

**Author's Note:**

> [Link to original livejournal post](http://marguerite-26.livejournal.com/406653.html)


End file.
